


When the world is too much (for us)

by Yuurei



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Fluff and Angst, Its kinda sweet but heart breaking so, Jack isnt really there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22910812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuurei/pseuds/Yuurei
Summary: Remember a time when it overwhelmed you and you came back stronger for it.
Kudos: 10





	When the world is too much (for us)

The sheets were too rough. The building was too loud. The smells were too strong. The world wouldn't leave him alone. He wanted to sleep. He was tired. So tired.

Days of exhaustion weighed on his senses making them alternately too strong and not strong enough. He could feel each spot were the sheets had been worn, the rough patches dragging over his body's skin as he shifted, but to his hands when he made to move those sections away it all felt impossibly harsh. The smell of soap from the evening shower he took lingered in the air despite having rinsed as thoroughly as he could. He thought perhaps it had gotten on his hair as it drifted passed his senses when he moved though he couldn't find it's source on his skin. 

He could hear everything and focus on nothing more than the beating of his own heart, a panicked hummingbird fast beat as the world tried to drown it out. Words from multiple places washed over his ears, indistinct splashes of tv commercials left to run while no one watched. It was too late in the night, or too early in the morning, to find distraction in the company of other's conversations. The only people out were drudging through night shifts or those who would take advantage of the former. He didn't want to hear them. 

Sirens blared and he whimpered, hands flashing upward to cradle his head. He didn't want to hear them. To hear screaming and panicked running. To hear lives ending and lives beginning anew more empty than they were before. 

The sirens drowned out all the world. He gasped harshly pressing his hands to his ears till his palms and jaw began to ache as well. Slowly he became aware of large rough hands grasping his own, layering themselves between him and the world. 

"Listen to me, Matty, I'm right here. You hearing me? I'm here. Just focus on me, Matty. Focus buddy, my hands are right here. I got you, Matty. You with me? I got you. Come on now, son. There we go. I got you. I got you. Come on." A low murmur sunk in at the edge of his senses drawing him out. 

His breathe was rattling in his lungs a harsh counterpoint to the croon of words beside him. He sobbed, collapsing forward and the hands shifted back to embrace him fully. "I got you, Matty, 'm right here. Too loud tonight?"

He nodded and the hands rubbed up and down his back. "Would the roof help? Higher up and all?" He shrugged. "Something for you to focus on at least yah?"** He stuttered out another nod his head lolling on his shoulders, energy gone.

The hands wrapped themselves around him then lifting him and shifting him to be held bridal style close to the chest. "Up we go then." 

The trek is slow. Things grabbed as they're passed by, doors opened and closed awkwardly and keys almost dropped. All the while a low murmur of words he can only half hear beyond the heartbeat drumming a steady bass beat in his ears. There's a flutter of heavy fabric, a blanket being thrown down, and the hands holding him release him to the fabric that has been lain down. He frantically swings out his hands to grab at those that left him. 

"Easy, Matt," the hands are back on his shoulders, "I got you. Let's sit yah?" There's pressure on his shoulders and he sits, holding those hands to his shoulders lest they should dissapear without the pressure keeping them. 

"Come on then," he's held, leaning back against a chest, his head close by that steady heart's beat. That beat pulses through him, drowning out the world, and he dozes off.

 _I've still got you, Matty. There's work to do. Time t' get up an face another day._

The weight against his shoulder disappears and he's falling back to hit the roof and then he sits up --

He sits up. To sheets too smooth, to soap too mild, to his own heart beating steady like a drum instead of a child's panicked hummingbird beat. It's time to face another day.

It was only a dream. 

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this instead of working on my waiting WIP... eh it's my birthday I can write what I want. So I wrote what, angst? Does this count as angst? 🤷  
> So basically the entire thing is a dream of when he was a kid and in the end he wakes up in his apartment.
> 
> **I was thinking of them in an apartment building so the rooftop would be so many floors up and the wishful thinking is it would be quieter up there.
> 
> My working summary of this was literally  
>  _"Matt something something night something rooftop something Matt's dad, just a dream"_  
>  Real masterpiece here right🤣  
> 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [That blessed arrangement](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22919203) by [Yuurei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuurei/pseuds/Yuurei)




End file.
